Haunting
by AmbrLupin
Summary: You grew up on them...whether to scare you or intrigue you. Ghost stories, chilling and mysterious. Some people don’t believe in them..and those are the people that come to find out, first hand...That they’re true. Not a MarySue. Plz read and review!
1. Elizabeth

Haunting

Chapter one: Elizabeth

Summary: You grew up on them...whether to scare you or intrigue you. Ghost stories, chilling and mysterious. Some people don't believe in them..and those are the people that come to find out, first hand...That they're true. -Not a Mary-Sue, and is really interesting. PLZ read.-

A/N: This is an odd idea in and of itself, and I realize this. But its October, and its getting near to Halloween...and I just got this idea. I hope you all will like it...after all, this is a challenging thing to write if I still want it to be legit. -grin- I hope I manage it all right.

**BTW: There is no romance in this. At least not between any female and any newsie. Just to set that straight. This isn't a Mary-Sue. **

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A ghost?

Why a ghost you say?

Well...

Why not?

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**My name is Elizabeth Miller, a true southerner, born and raised in Rincon, Georgia. If you don't know where that is, it's a suburb of Savannah, close to the Atlantic ocean. But im not here to tell you where I grew up, im here to tell you a story. A story that has shocked many, and cultivated much grief in the past year of my life. In a way...All the people that call me a fool, call me crazy... Are just different versions of me, after the fact. **

**You see, I never believed in the stories my mother told me...I called them fairy tales. Childish stories. What did she think I was? Five? I didn't believe in elves, I didn't believe in fairies. And I sure as heck didn't believe in what my mother called 'metaphysical beings of chance and fate.'**

**She meant ghosts. **

**What good was a ghost anyway? Mother used to tell me stories of ghosts saving people, helping them out as they tried to find ways to 'help the being along a path of self discovery.' That was another thing she used to say a lot. That meant the ghost helped the person they were haunting until that person found out what was binding them to that particular place. **

**But why, _why_ would you do that? Why help a ghost? Surely they were bind to that place for a reason, right? So why set them free from whatever tormented them? Surely they wouldn't have been sealed there just so someone could come along years later and let them go? **

**That was totally pointless. **

**And so is the subject of ghosts. Because I specifically remember telling you I don't believe in them-**

_"Thats a horrible thing to say!"_

Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth sat back on her heels, tapping the pen against the side of her mouth thoughtfully. "Well it's the truth, isn't it?" Her voice held a slight southern twang, not as thick as her parents, thats for sure.

_"Yes. But dats not da point heah! Dat was cruel, Liz."_

She could almost hear the pout in the voice, and she groaned, running a hand through her long brown hair. "Your accent gets thicker when you're angry, didya know that?"

_"Of course I did. And stop changin' da subject!"_

Laughing at the disembodied voice floating through her room, Elizabeth pushed herself to her knees, gathering the hardback journal and her assortment of colored pens, dumping them on her bed before moving to the window and flinging it wide.

It was a nice night, with a spattering of stars in an inky black sky. If she looked over to the right, she could see Manhattan, in all its glory. If thats what you wanted to call it. The word that came to her own mind, however, was death trap.

Big cities like Manhattan were just death traps, luring unsuspecting people into horrible fates of poverty, crime, and or death. Why anyone would take pleasure in living in a city boggled her mind, and she had absolutely refused to take a step out of Georgia, until she had been promised at least a few miles in between her and the nearest death trap.

Sure, her parents complained all the time, because it was that much father to work every morning, but she didn't care. They would thank her for it one day, when their eyes cleared and they saw the error of their ways. She was certain.

_"Thinkin' bout me?" _

"You wish." She grinned to herself, placing her hands on the window sill, pushing her small frame through, twisting so her back was to the ground a story below. Reaching out, she grabbed a hold of the edge of the roof, pulling herself up easily.

_"One day you're gonna fall, and im gonna laugh." _This time, all traces of pout and anger was gone, leaving nothing behind but amusement, and a slight tone of tease.

"Doubtful." She retorted, scrambling a little as she finally got a handhold and started to crawl across the roof, reaching the center and perching herself up on the peak, back up against the brick fireplace.

This was her sanctuary; her special place where no one could interrupt her, no one could tell her what to do. No one could touch her, hurt her. Up here, on the top of the world, she was free.

Breathing in deeply, Elizabeth closed her eyes, hands spreading to the sides and fingertips spread as a cold breeze rushed past, a soft sigh slipping from her lips. She didn't have to think about school, she didn't have to think about her chores, she didn't have to think at all.

She preferred it that way. Life shouldn't be thought through. It should just be. Or at least, that is how she saw life _now._ A few years ago it was plan this, or organize that. She had even started to scare _herself_.

But that had been before...

Cracking one eye open, her lips quirked into a small smile. "You're like a little puppy. Following me all around like this."

_"Ya know, I resent dat." _

"Thought you might."

Something cold poked her cheek, but she was used to it by now and didn't even flinch. She merely rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. "Did I mention childish?"

_"Im gonna act like I have recently gone deaf, and refuse to comment."_

"Awwwww." Laughing now, Elizabeth curled her arms around her stomach. "But its fun!"

There was a small moment of silence.

_"Do you want me ta push ya ovah the edge of the roof?"_

"Would you?" She asked, serious now. It was something she had researched. Mood swings, come to find out, were rather common in ghosts. Even if they were calm tempered most of the time! "Would you push me over the roof?"

Silence. She knew there would be. Just as she knew she had been alone just a second before. But now a young man sat to her right, legs crossed, eyes the color of mocha staring straight at her.

_"What kind of question is dat?" _He asked softly.

Elizabeth caught the hurt in his voice, and reached forward, brushing a strand of mahogany hair from his face. It had startled her that she could touch him, but only at first. There were many layers to a ghost, and one of them was physical.

But it was rare for him to use so much energy to appear flesh and blood to her.

"A stupid one. Im sorry, Race."

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First chapter done! Heeee. I thought it was pretty good. But maybe im just kidding myself. You guys tell me.

Leave me a review, doesn't matter if you have an account or not!


	2. Sister

Haunting

Chapter two: Sister

Summary: You grew up on them...whether to scare you or intrigue you. Ghost stories, chilling and mysterious. Some people don't believe in them..and those are the people that come to find out, first hand...That they're true. -Not a Mary-Sue, and is really interesting. PLZ read.-

A/N: This is an odd idea in and of itself, and I realize this. But its October, and its getting near to Halloween...and I just got this idea. I hope you all will like it...after all, this is a challenging thing to write if I still want it to be legit. -grin- I hope I manage it all right.

BTW: There is no romance in this. At least not between any female and any newsie. Just to set that straight. This isn't a Mary-Sue.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own newsies. Thank you.

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"No ghost was ever seen by two pairs of eyes."

-Thomas Carlyle

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_"She didn't undahstand."_

Race sat, if you could call the floating he was doing as sitting, on the roof, long after Elizabeth had said her good-nights and descended down to her bed, looking down at his hands, listening to the whispering breeze.

_"I would nevah hurt anyone."_ His voice was tinged with sorrow, regret, and pain, as he slid from his perch, drifting back in through the open window, paying no attention to the fluttering curtains.

Moonlight cast silver light across Elizabeth's face as she slept soundly, unaware of what she had brought up in the age old ghost. Race closed his eyes briefly, and the next second flesh and blood feet were touching the carpet, and flesh and blood hands began to pull her blanket up around her bare shoulders.

_"I won't hurt you, Liz."_ It astonished him...How such a question could ever come up. They were the best of friends, always laughing and joking around. She was the first friend he had had in a long while. So why...?

No, that wasn't right. She wasn't a friend, she was a sister. That's what she was to him, a beloved sister he felt the need to protect, to care for, and to guide. And through it all, she had asked him if he would deliberately hurt her. Like he was those poltergeists she researched on her computer at night.

Some sort of...of monster stuck between worlds, unable to leave-

A light flickered on outside the door.

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Turning the knob with one hand, Mrs. Miller took a silent step into her daughter's room, and then another. And another. Lips turning up into a tired smile, she held tight to a cup of tea in one hand, using the other to tuck the blankets around her sleeping child.

Elizabeth had a habit of kicking the blankets to the opposite wall on a calm night. Heaven forbid she have a nightmare...The entire room would be trashed and of course the little troublemaker wouldn't remember a lick of it come morning.

Mrs. Miller didn't even notice the cold until she brushed her hand along the topmost edge of the blanket, near Elizabeth's shoulder. Shivering, she looked toward the window, and was amazed to see it wide open.

Shaking her head, she set her cup on the desk, and moved toward the window, pushing in the springs and lowering it slowly until she heard the soft click. Satisfied, she moved to pick her cup back up, and had almost made it to the door before a cold breeze ruffled her bangs and a chill ran up her spine.

She turned back towards the window.

But it was still closed.

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_"Liz..."_

Mumble.

_"Liz..."_

Mumble.

_"Elizabeth!" _

Shriek.

Leaping at least a foot in the air, the young girl sat bolt upright, pulling the blanket around her until the only thing visible was a mop of dark brown hair and those flickering, flashing, hazel eyes.

"That was NOT funny."

Hardly fazed by the growl, Race's lips curled into an amused smirk. _"Oh, I think it was."_

"Did I ask you?" She snapped, trying to get her spine under control and her body at a normal temperature. Or semi-normal. Anything was better then the cold running through her veins.

However it may have seemed, she couldn't stay mad at him for all that long. He was, after all, her alarm clock. On the other hand, though, she could have done very well without the freezing cold hand that had run down her spine.

Sure, it was an affective way to wake her up, even she knew she was difficult, but she was pretty sure she was going to be shivering with cold for at least a few more minutes. It was bone chilling, mind numbing _cold._

_"Your mother was in here, last night."_

Her head snapped around and something heavy settled itself in her stomach. "Did she see you?" It was a whisper.

Even though, at the moment, Race was nothing more than a ripple in the air, she could tell she shook his head. _"Im fast."_

"Yes you are." She didn't doubt that. It was something she had noticed right off. Race wasn't fast...He was fast. "But that didn't answer my question."

_"No, it did not."_ A semi-corporeal form shimmered to life, perched next to her on the edge of the bed. Race turned his head to the side and grinned slightly. _"But ta save myself from da horrible glare I am currently receiving, I'll be nice dis one time and tell ya. No, she didn't see me." _

Tension eased from her shoulders and she let a soft sigh escape her lips. Her parents were devout Catholics, and it wouldn't have been a problem for them to call in say, an exorcist...Being who they were, she was sure they knew someone who could do it.

Following her thoughts, Race turned toward her closet, eyes narrowing slightly before he vanished from view. A moment later, the door flew open, startling poor Elizabeth, who jumped to her feet, dropping the blanket back on the bed.

"Race!" She hissed as her clothes began to move. "What are you doing?" Her jaw dropped as an armful of clothes moved from her closet to her bed, forming into a rather bizarre outfit of fluorescent oranges and reds, dark blues and purples.

_"Im dressin ya."_ It was said simply, and only with a hint of amusement in his voice. He was trying to be serious.

What else could she do but laugh?

Which was, of course, the only thing Race had been trying to accomplish. He hadn't, however, expected her to agree to wearing it.

"All right." She smiled, picking up the bright orange blouse and holding it to her chest experimentally. "You did pick clothes that fit me, didn't you?"

_"I...Yes, but...What?" _

Even as she skipped off with her outfit in hand, Elizabeth couldn't suppress the joy-filled laugh. It was always fun to surprise a ghost.

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"Here's your lunch, honey." Mrs. Miller kissed her husband on the cheek as he raced out toward his car, heading off to work for the day. She could strangle her daughter, for making them live so far away from work...They had to start so _early_.

"Liza!"

"Comin, ma!" Elizabeth nearly jumped the last two stairs, moving to grab the brown-bagged lunch from her mother's slack hand, not even noticing the stunned look on her face. Setting the bag in her teeth, she hopped into a pair of slick black boots, all the while looking for her bag.

"...What...are you...wearing?" Mrs. Miller's voice resonated pure unadulterated shock, as she gazed at her seventeen year old daughter. "That...You can't...I can't let you out of the house like that!"

Smiling, and conveniently going deaf at that last statement, Elizabeth grabbed her off the shoulder bag, kissed her mother on the cheek and raced out, calling behind her. "Love ya, mom! See you after work!"

Raising a hand to her forehead, a soft breath eased from Mrs. Miller's lips.

Dear lord...Had her daughter just left the house wearing half her closet?

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Hitting the ground running, Elizabeth tried to shove her lunch bag into her bag and search for the bus with the other. So far she was having quite a difficult time with it, and her shoes didn't help either.

Stumbling over a rock, she was shocked, but not surprised to feel a cold hand steady her by her arm. Smiling, she finished jamming her bag in the backpack, and zipped it up.

Not wanting her mother to see anything unusual if she happened to look out the window, Elizabeth just grinned, "See you after school, Race!" and ran down the road.

But if anyone had been outside at the exact moment Elizabeth Miller disappeared from view, they would have heard a soft laugh, followed by a string of fond Italian...

And then silence.

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Longer chapter this time folks! And a swift update.

So, tell me whatcha think, ya? -grin-

Read and review, thats the trick!


	3. Monday Part one

Haunting

Chapter three: Monday (part one)

Summary: You grew up on them...whether to scare you or intrigue you. Ghost stories, chilling and mysterious. Some people don't believe in them..and those are the people that come to find out, first hand...That they're true. -Not a Mary-Sue, and is really interesting. PLZ read.-

A/N: This is an odd idea in and of itself, and I realize this. But its October, and its getting near to Halloween...and I just got this idea. I hope you all will like it...after all, this is a challenging thing to write if I still want it to be legit. -grin- I hope I manage it all right.

BTW: There is no romance in this. At least not between any female and any newsie. Just to set that straight. This isn't a Mary-Sue.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own newsies. Thank you.

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"Any idea, like a ghost, must be spoken to a little before it will explain itself."

- Charles Dickens

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School wasn't all that bad up in the freezing cold north, Elizabeth had come to find out. Different, yes, of course, but not unbearable. In fact she actually kinda liked it. The only thing she really had to adjust to, were the buildings.

The south had plenty of room, so the schools, whether they be elementary, middle, or high, were spread out accordingly. One floor, spacious rooms -on occasion- and portable classrooms located on the side.

Her school now wasn't like that at all. Instead, they tried to save space and build upwards. Two stories, or more depending on the situation at hand and the city, most of the time with a basement or underground floor.

She hadn't really had to deal with a single stair for most of her life, and now she had to manage at least a hundred every day. The bus ride was nothing spectacular, boring in fact, since their driver was a crabby old man who looked ready to drop dead from a heart attack at any moment.

Not to mention he wouldn't turn on the radio no matter how many times they asked.

Once she hopped off the bus, in all her mismatched glory, she gained some odd looks, but she mostly ignored them. What did they know? She was just happy her friend wasn't mad at her! She had said some rather tactless things, when she should have kept her mouth shut.

Mother's words of wisdom. Close your mouth and the world will go a lot easier.

She never did listen.

First period, after stopping at the library to drop off some books, was up the stairs to English - where she laughed at the absurdity of what they were learning about. Ghosts of all things. Ghost and ghost stories.

She was listening to the teacher go on and on, doodling little swirls on her paper with her purple pen - stolen happily from the teacher's desk of all places - when a note slid across her own desk.

Blinking, she raised her head enough to see her friend, Karen Christianson, give her a little wink from a few rows over, waving her little fuzzy topped pen, as she pretended to take notes.

Smiling, she quickly unfolded it, spending a moment to wonder why you would fold them up so small...when it made so much more noise to open them that way, instead of just folding it once.

Smoothing out the paper, wincing every time it made a crinkling sound, she finally managed to get it open all the way, without alerting the lecturing teacher that anything out of the ordinary was going on.

...And immediately had to stifle the chuckle that rose upon seeing the first line.

_'This lady has no idea what she's talkin bout. By the way... Our ghost needs to learn some fashion. You look like a reject from the Howdy Doody show.' _

Looking down at herself, and trying not to admit her friend was right, she hurriedly scribbled back a reply and casually sent it back. It returned not a minute later, sliding suicidally towards the edge.

Managing to save the note from a dreadful demise, she flipped it open and grinned. _'Don't take that tone with me, missy. I'll come over and give Race a talkin to if I have to. Honestly...You're wearing a bright PINK vest. I didn't know you owned a bright pink vest.' _

All the while, the teacher was going on and on about manifestations in the real world, completely ignoring the note passing behind her back. Karen found it immensely hilarious when Elizabeth confessed to not knowing quite what was in her own closet, and Elizabeth, in turn, found it quite funny when Karen was caught in a question she couldn't answer.

All in all...English class went by pretty fast.

After that, it was down the hall and around the corner to Math, bane of her existence. Her teacher wasn't that bad, per se. In fact, he was really nice, offering to help her out whenever she needed it. But honestly, it just wasn't her strong point.

So, she hunkered down in her seat, three rows over and three back, nipping at the end of her pencil and wishing she knew why there were so many stupid _letters_ in her _math_ problem. Groaning, she hung her head and wished something would brighten her math period, or else...maybe God would make her a genius so she could get through the next thirty minutes.

Well, there was no miracle.

But a god DID walk through the door.

5'10, dark brown hair that looked like he had either woken up or had recently run his fingers through it, and a pair of sexy, chocolate eyes that seemed to smirk as he stood in the doorway, a bag thrown carelessly over one shoulder.

"Ah, you must be our new student!" Mr. Warren laid his chalk in its tray and dusted his hands off. "Little late to class, aren't you? Well, never mind that small detail. Your name..?"

"Ryan Gallagher." The soft Irish burr sent every female in the class swooning. "The front office told me to tell you they're sorry about the hold up, but my paperwork took a while getting here from Brooklyn." The wry tone to his voice clearly implied the school had already gotten a low rating in his book.

And the teacher picked up on it easily. Clearing his throat a little, he made himself busy with finding this Ryan Gallagher a seat. Running up and down the rows, he bit his lip and randomly chose one.

"Fourth row, second seat, if you would."

"Thank you."

Elizabeth stifled a snicker as he moved from the door to the row next to hers. There was so much sarcasm in those two words then any she had heard before, and it made Mr. Warren flush a little.

"Now...um...Where were you in your math class in Brooklyn? Were you-"

"Way past this." He interrupted smoothly, looking onto a neighbor's paper. He said something so complex it had Elizabeth's head spinning, and Mr. Warren blinking at him.

"Well, are you sure they put you in the right class, young man?"

Folding his arms on the old desk top, Ryan looked straight at the teacher, "Sir, this is the only class available to me, because I am sure you are aware of the large population this school currently has. I was told to sit here and act like I was working, but the rest of your class seems to be in the middle of writing notes, so please, don't ignore them to play 20 questions with me."

_'Oh yah.'_ Elizabeth grinned down at her paper, for once not caring she didn't understand anything she had written down. Because her math class had just gotten a heck of a lot more interesting. _'I think I might like this Ryan Gallagher.'_

Mr. Warren, ignoring Ryan completely, turned back to the board, picking his chalk back up with enough force to almost crack it. He had been called, and he knew it. It was harsh to be shown your place, especially by a student.

"Ms. Miller!" He all but snapped. "Number thirteen. Explain to me the principles of the problem and how you would solve it." At her blank stare, he tapped the board. "Before the ice age, if you please."

_Well dang._

...She hated Ryan Gallagher.

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Here ya go! -sings-

a new chapter for Friday the 13th!

With a few added 13s to make it interesting. And a new cute charrie! Im interested to know what you all think of Ryan so far. Hee.


	4. Monday Part two

Haunting

Chapter four: Monday (part two)

Summary: You grew up on them...whether to scare you or intrigue you. Ghost stories, chilling and mysterious. Some people don't believe in them..and those are the people that come to find out, first hand...That they're true. -Not a Mary-Sue, and is really interesting. PLZ read.-

A/N: This is an odd idea in and of itself, and I realize this. But its October, and its getting near to Halloween...and I just got this idea. I hope you all will like it...after all, this is a challenging thing to write if I still want it to be legit. -grin- I hope I manage it all right.

BTW: There is no romance in this. At least not between any female and any newsie. Just to set that straight. This isn't a Mary-Sue.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own newsies. Thank you.

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"There is something beyond the grave; death does not end all, and the pale ghost escapes from the vanquished pyre."

- Sextus Propertius

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Lucky for her, Ryan Gallagher was in her next class too.

Rolling her eyes as the entire female population fawned over him and his "cute lil accent," she sulked in her seat, looking up only when arms hugged her from the seat behind.

"Why so glum, mate?"

"You wouldn't understand." Elizabeth muttered, leaning into the tall male behind her. "Besides, what are you doin here so early, Mike?"

There was a snort. "What, I'm not allowed to be on time to class?"

"Never have, in all the years I've known you, so spill." She ducked from under his arms and twisted, eyebrow raised slightly. "Michael Mitchell, don't look at me that way."

Ouch. Mike winced, his hazy blue green eyes closing in mock pain, as a hand came up to grab his chest. "Full name treatment isnt becoming of you, Elizabeth Carolyn."

"Right back atcha." She muttered, rolling her eyes. "Now get outta my face, you gay faerie." She poked him in the chest, and laughed when he slumped backwards in his seat.

"Queen. Im the Queen, Liz."

"Oh, im sorry. I forgot."

"Of course you did."

Liz chuckled, leaning over and giving him a one armed hug. "Don't sound so sad, Mikey. I didn't mean it."

"Ahuh." He sniffed.

"Aw, don't-"

"Elizabeth Miller?"

Liz's head came up and she blinked at Ryan, who was about a foot away, his eyebrow raised and a piece of paper in his hand. "Uh...Yes? Yes?" She had to say it twice and her face heated up at her first undignified squawk.

Ryan gave her an easy grin - his accent really was flattering she couldn't help but notice - and held the folded note out to her. "This came from the office."

Brow furrowed, Elizabeth took the note from him, only vaguely aware of Mike leaning forward again, to read over her shoulder, of Ryan returning to his seat, or of the teacher starting class.

The only thing she was aware of, was the freezing cold chill that ran up the back of her spine as she unfolded the piece of paper and saw the secretaries neat, precise handwriting.

_'Mother called. Needs her home now." _

The only thing Elizabeth could think of, for some reason... The only thing on her mind. Was... Was...

"Race." She whispered, standing and slamming her palms flat on the desk.

"And that is what Hamlet is- Ms. Miller? What are - Where are you going?"

Elizabeth didn't even grab her stuff, she just threw open the door, running down the hall so fast her shoes made slapping noises against the floor that sounded like gun fire in her ears.

Oh God. Oh God.

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**Hot. It was hot. **

**Fire.**

**Everywhere. **

**Hard to breathe. **

**Couldn't get out. **

**No one around to hear.**

**Screaming. **

Race, shaking, jerked to full awareness, just as the fire alarms started to go off. His eyes as wide as dinner plates, took in the thick, dark smoke as it started to spiral around the room and a chill ran up his spine.

**"Come on, Race... Its just a house." **

Backing up, the ghost's corporeal form shimmered into view and he hit Elizabeth's dresser, knocking the porcelain figurine of a horse her mother had given her for her tenth birthday off.

He didn't even hear it hit the floor.

_"No...No..."_

**"Of course it's just a house, Conlon!" **His own voice, sounding so foreign to his ears. **"But I'm not the one who won't go in it." **

Smoke, coming up through the small ventilation vents, seeping under the door. All around him, choking him, blinding him.

_"...Stop..." _

**"I'll go in it." **Spot looked so miffed, he hadn't been able to hide a smirk at the time. **"Oh, don't give me that look! Just for that, I won't. You go in. A dare." **

**"A dare, Conlon? You're darin' me to go in a house? You're getting desperate." **

_"..Stop it." _

**"Double or nothin, Race."**

**"You got yourself a dare, Spot."**

_"STOP IT!" _

Race screamed, one long, harsh sound as he fell to his knees, rocking back and forth. Smoke continued to build in the room, flames licking at the door. He could hear it. Hear the sound that haunted him, even so long after.

It was happening again.

And he was alone.

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Elizabeth raced up the drive, having bummed a ride from a neighbor who said there was something going on up at her house. She could smell smoke, and that made her run faster.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but she knew it wasn't the image of her home, encased in flames. Her eyes wide, she screamed. She didn't know why at the time.

Her mother rushed her from the side, pulling her into her arms. She was saying something, but Liz didn't hear her. All she could see was her home. Her eyes locked onto the top window, her window.

And she heard him.

_"STOP IT!!"_

The scream was what made her move. Never mind the fact that logically he was a ghost, and the fire wouldn't hurt him. Never mind the fact she was not, and the fire would definitely hurt her.

Her best friend was in there.

Race was in there.

Bolting up the steps, she vaguely heard someone scream at her. Might have been her mom. Throwing open the door, she was hit with a blast of searing heat that left her gasping.

She almost turned back. Almost turned on her heels and went back to her mother's arms. Almost. Instead, Elizabeth took a deep breath and raced into the house.

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...What to say... what to say...

Hmm. I don't know.

Review?


	5. Fire

Haunting

Chapter five: Fire

Summary: You grew up on them...whether to scare you or intrigue you. Ghost stories, chilling and mysterious. Some people don't believe in them..and those are the people that come to find out, first hand...That they're true. -Not a Mary-Sue, and is really interesting. PLZ read.-

A/N: This is an odd idea in and of itself, and I realize this. But its October, and its getting near to Halloween...and I just got this idea. I hope you all will like it...after all, this is a challenging thing to write if I still want it to be legit. -grin- I hope I manage it all right.

BTW: There is no romance in this. At least not between any female and any newsie. Just to set that straight. This isn't a Mary-Sue.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own newsies. Thank you.

Add. Disclaimer: I do not own Hawkeye. She belongs to iDefy Gravity. Go read her stuff. Its awesome! (She helped me write the parts with Hawk, btw!)

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"I like the ephemeral thing about theater, every performance is like a ghost - Its there, and then its gone." - Maggie Smith

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As soon as Elizabeth ran into the house she knew she had made a deadly mistake. The heat crowded her, so hot she could barely breathe. The smoke stung her eyes and she had to blink back the tears that sprang up.

Here, sound was gone. She knew her mother had to be screaming, knew the sirens were blaring, but all she heard was the animalistic roar of the flames as they leapt higher and higher around her.

Bolting for the stairs, one arm held out in front of her so she could feel her way through the thick, acrid black smoke, she stumbled against the bottom stair. Thanking God above her parents hadn't carpeted the thick wood, she sprang up them, dodging the flames she saw licking at the sides.

"Race!" She screamed, voice scratchy with smoke. Coughing her hand flew over her mouth. "Race!"

Where was he? Why wasn't he answering her? He was a ghost for heaven's sake! It's not like he couldn't get to her. But...what if he couldn't? That thought had never entered her mind before. What if Race couldn't get to her? Had she trapped herself in a burning building with no way out?

Even though it was hot enough to melt metal in the house something cold slid down her spine. Fear. Halfway to panic now, Elizabeth screamed and sprinted up the final stairs, calling for Race frantically.

Panic of any kind in a disaster wasn't good. She knew that. Didn't change the fact that she was doing it. The ceiling above her creaked and groaned and she gasped, watching as a beam fell. It filled her vision until she slammed onto the ground at the top of the stairs.

Landing with a crash, and demolishing some of the stairway, the beam lay there, encased in flames and spreading to the banister and walls. She had to have moved out of the way. That was all she could think of as she got to her feet and turned toward her door.

Nothing but a flaming wall met her vision.

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Sitting on the floor, Race stared straight ahead, his eyes glassy and unfocused. He knew the flames were going to reach the room soon, could hear them licking at the door, but he didn't care. He wasn't there. Not really.

_"Hey, Race. Whatcha doin heah alone?" _

_Turning his head toward the voice, the Italian offered up an easy grin. "Watchin the race, Mush. You've known me foah how long now? You knew I'd be here." _

_"Yah." Mush gave him a nod and a smile. "Racetrack Higgins at the races... Imagine that."_

_---_

_"Do ya believe this?!" Blink threw down his half eaten piece of bread in frustration. "I aint makin enough for them to do dis to us. Stupid Pulitzah and Hearst!" _

_"Rich people have it so easy." Someone yelled from the back. "They should try bein in our shoes!"_

_"If we have any!" _

_At the spark of angry laughter, Race looked up from where he was playing solitaire. "Its all they know. Can't blame them for followin how they were raised." _

_"Watch meh." _

_---_

_Race felt like the air had been sucked right out of him. Spot, at his side, could only stare, shock turning into rage as David and Jack talked. The bulls were keeping them from interfering, but at the moment...It didn't matter._

_"Race!" Blink and Mush caught up with him while he was stalking away. Someone grabbed his arm, spun him around. "Race, come on.. You know Jack.. He didn't mean it. He..He's Jack!" _

_Staring into Mush's pleading eyes, Race jerked away. "I don't know a Jack." _

_---_

_"Its ovah." Spot sounded so relieved as he collapsed next to him, tipping his hat down over his eyes. "Finally." _

_"Yeah. Are you surprised?" Race silently slid a drink toward the leader of Brooklyn. _

_"Surprised? Why would I be? They were goin against Brooklyn, aftah all." _

_Race smirked and laughed. Brooklyn. Yeah. He was sitting there, drinking with big bad Brooklyn. Didn't mean all that much. Spot wasn't that bad a guy once you knew him. _

_"Hey, Race. How bout a pokah match latah dis week?" _

_"Have I evah refused befoah?" _

---

_Race sat with his heels on the table, looking down at his cards with a blank expression on his face. Spot sat across from him, and Hawk was to his left. Everyone else had given up, actually. They were tired of losing their money. _

_Hawkeye looked around the table and sighed before saying, "And the world's least interesting poker game is..." She raised her eyebrows at the other two, figuring they felt the same way. _

_Spot nodded and placed his hand flat on the table, smirking. "Anyone feel like makin it more interesting den?" _

_"Please." Race muttered under his breath. _

_Hawkeye leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "How?"_

_Looking around at the other two, Spot's smirk slid into a grin. "Dere's dis house on da edge of Hattan. A few of me boys went dere a few weeks back. Ya know, to satisfy some curiosity." _

_"A house." Race repeated slowly, setting his cards on the table, chin cradled in one hand. "Conlon, you've lost your mind. What's so special about a house?"_

_"Dis one's haunted." _

_Hawkeye rolled her eyes, "Okay. Your little house is haunted, and I'm gonna be the next Medda Larkson," She snorted. "Really, Spot, we're not kids." She glanced over at Race, smirking. "Well, at least one of us isn't."_

_Race stuck his tongue out at her. Childish, but he couldn't help it. It was the perfect moment to do it. He looked over at Spot and laughed when he saw the leader rubbing his face. _

_"All right, Conlon. Let's say we believe you. Your little house is haunted. So?" _

_Spot shrugged. "Whoever loses has to go in it. Trust me... My kids ran out screaming." That was saying something right there. Brooklyn kids didn't go screaming. And they didn't run._

_Race knew it was coming even as Hawkeye raised an eyebrow. "Really. Did they?" she looked sideways at the Italian gambler, "You hear that? The big, bad house scared away Brookies." She couldn't help smirking at the idea of that actually happening."_

_Spot ended it right then and there. Teasing, maybe, but that was his borough she was talking about. "Well den. Don't lose and you won't have to worry bout it." He picked his cards back up and turned them over. "Whatcha got?" _

---

_Why he was here... he had no clue._

_Staring up at the house that looked the same as every other house around, Race sighed and put his hands in his pockets. No matter what people said, if people had come running and screaming out of that place he didn't want any part in it. _

_But a bet was a bet. And a dare a dare. _

_Since Spot had to conveniently go and dare him to go in alone as well. _

_Hawkeye, still not believing in something as silly as a haunted house, rolled her eyes. "Race, would you just go in already? Shockingly, I'd like to get on with my life. Watching you stall isn't exactly what I want to be doing." She said it all in an annoyed tone, but the grin on her face gave away that she wasn't serious at all._

_"I just don't see why we have to do all dis at night." For some reason Race was getting chills. And it wasn't from the cold wind. "Can't we just come back tomorrow?"_

_"Stop bein a baby." Spot snorted, thrusting a candle into his hands. "You lost. Go pay up and be thankful I'm not takin your money." _

_Hawkeye nodded, "He's right, Race. Would you rather have to give up your hard-earned cash?" Obviously she was being sarcastic, as it didn't take much to bet at the tracks._

_Race sighed, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw. Flashing them a wide smirk, he winked. "I'll show you dis place isn't haunted. Just watch me." Holding his hand around the flame so it wouldn't blow out, Race walked up the hill and pushed open the wooden door, jumping as a large black bat flew over his head. _

_Not his most graceful moment. _

_Hawkeye cringed as the bat flew out, but quickly covered her anxiety, nudging Spot in the ribs and sending him a smirk to which the other returned. "He'll back out." _

_Race, standing back up and fixing his hat, turned and gave them a smile, before disappearing inside the house. _

_First thought. It was pretty dark in there, even with a candle._

_Second thought. It spelled suspiciously of alcohol._

_Stumbling over something he really couldn't see, Race ducked under cobwebs and jumped over things he would rather not investigate. The whole house smelled, and the gambler had a sickening thought. _

_Why was the house abandoned in the first place? Maybe Spot was right. Maybe someone had died here and the house really was haunted. A chill ran up his spine as he started up the staircase. He was going to check out the second floor and then he was done._

_He really didn't care what Spot would say at this point. _

_Tripping on the last step - it jutted out a little farther than the others - Race landed hard on the ground, half on and half off the top step. "Ow." He mumbled, raising his head and pushing himself to his feet. _

_Something sharp pressed against his arm and he hissed, dropping the candle on reflex. Yelping he turned it upwards again and pulled out the glass shard that had embedded itself in his arm. Forget being haunted, this place was dangerous on its own! _

_Sighing he got to his feet, feeling the blood seep across his shirt. He was all ready to leave, but something in the corner of the hallway caught his eye. Picking the candle back up he moved to go see what it was, the candle held out away from his body to spread what little light it gave off. _

_"See. This isn't so ba-" His sentence cut off in a yell as the floor gave way underneath him. Crashing through molded and broken floor, Race landed hard on his back, head hitting a beam hard. The last thing he saw, before his vision went black, was his candle, lying back up where he had fallen._

_On its side and spreading fire across the alcohol soaked floor. _

---

Elizabeth stared at the wall of fire in shock. Her room.. It was past all that fire. "Race!" She screamed, knowing somewhere deep inside that if he was going to hear her, if he was going to come, he would have already showed.

As to what that meant, she had no clue. All she knew was that she had to get out of there. Her house was going up in flames. She could barely breathe as it was. Turning on her heel, and coughing hard, her heart fell and shattered by her feet.

The staircase was on fire.

"Oh my God." She breathed, spinning in a circle. Trapped. Hyperventilating now, she rushed to the banister and leaned over. Too far to jump. There wasn't any way but through the fire.

"Race! GOD, RACE!" She screamed, sucking in breath after breath until the world began to dim...dim all the way to black. Collapsing to her knees, Elizabeth placed a hand over her mouth, but couldn't stop as the darkness clawed over her and she fell on the floor, passed out cold.

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A long chapter for Christmas. Merry Christmas!


	6. Ryan

Haunting

Chapter six: Ryan

Summary: You grew up on them...whether to scare you or intrigue you. Ghost stories, chilling and mysterious. Some people don't believe in them..and those are the people that come to find out, first hand...That they're true. -Not a Mary-Sue, and is really interesting. PLZ read.-

A/N: This is an odd idea in and of itself, and I realize this. But its October, and its getting near to Halloween...and I just got this idea. I hope you all will like it...after all, this is a challenging thing to write if I still want it to be legit. -grin- I hope I manage it all right.

BTW: There is no romance in this. At least not between any female and any newsie. Just to set that straight. This isn't a Mary-Sue.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own newsies. Thank you.

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"If he is a ghost, then it's very disappointing for me, because he is banished in the story, and that could mean that he won't be coming back, and that would be terrible, wouldn't it?"

- Paul Darrow

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The first thing Elizabeth saw when she opened her eyes, was a white ceiling. Blinking her eyes in confusion, she shifted her body, realizing she was lying on something soft. Gasping in realization she bolted upright in the bed, palms flat on the mattress and staring around wildly.

A hospital. She was in a hospital.

Taking a deep breath she pulled the covers back and swung her legs over the side. Her footing was unsure and her balance unsteady, but she gripped onto the end table, and then to the wall as she made her way to the door.

It was when she reached for the door handle that she noticed the bandages wrapped around her hands. Frowning, she raised a hand to her face, grumbling. It made her look and feel like she was wearing thick winter mittens.

She tried twice to turn the metal knob, to no avail. There was absolutely no grip given by her bandaged up hands. Groaning she hit her head on the wall a few times, before moving toward the window, staring out over lover Manhattan.

"Well." Her voice was scratchy from the smoke inhalation, but laced with sarcasm. "This sucks."

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"Elizabeth, are you all right?!" Mrs. Miller pulled her daughter into a hug before pulling her back for an inspection and then back in for another hug.

"Yes. Mom. I'm fine." Elizabeth struggled to get out of the choke hold, rolling her eyes. "Just like when you asked me two seconds ago."

Placing a hand on her head, Mr. Miller took a deep breath. "You scared us, Liz. We thought we had lost you."

"Well...You didn't. I'm fine... But please, dear God, woman, let me breathe!" Tearing away from her mother, Elizabeth rubbed at her throat, turned away from her parents so they would take the hint and leave.

She knew she was being cruel, but she didn't really know what to tell them. It's not like she could stand there and say: Mom, Dad, I ran back into our burning house because my friend Race who lives in my room with me - he's a ghost, don't worry - was still in there and I wanted to make sure he was okay.

Yeaaaaaaahhhh... That would go over real well.

She was so caught up in her thoughts, mostly of what she was going to say to her parents, that she didn't hear them leave, or the door reopen about a half hour later. She did, however, feel the hand that fell down on her shoulder.

Yelling in shock, Elizabeth jumped, mouth open to scream before a hand clamped itself over her mouth. She heard her name and relaxed only slightly, recognizing the Irish accent that seeped through the voice.

After a moment the grip relaxed and she pulled away, turning to look at the newcomer, brow creased in confusion. "Ryan...Gallagher?"

He was standing there, his hands in his pockets, eyes narrowed a bit. He looked like he was calculating something up in his head, something that didn't quite add up. Those sharp eyes locked with hers and there was the briefest smile on his face.

This wasn't the guy she had seen at school...That was for sure.

"So...Elizabeth Miller.. How long have you been living with your ghost?"

_What._

_The._

_Hell._

Jaw dropping, Elizabeth handled the situation like any other teenage girl her age would. She cold cocked him and walked to her bed, turning the television on to wait for him to stop gasping and sputtering in shock.

When he was down to just staring, she shut the t.v. off and turned to him. "Now... How about you sit down and tell me how you know about Race."

'You just hit me."

"Yes I did."

"Why did you hit me?"

"You were rude."

"How was I _rude?!" _

-Insert loud Gaelic cursing as the remote control landed upside head. -

Rubbing his now pounding head in shock, Ryan carefully walked to the bed and sat down gingerly, clearing his throat. "Uh... Ms. Miller... About the ghos- WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!"

Elizabeth pulled her hand back from where she had slapped him. "You hadn't asked how I was doing. Now you're being rude and inconsiderate."

Mouth dropped, Ryan tried, unsuccessfully, to form words. Finally he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, miss... How are you doi-" This time he managed to miss the object thrown at his head. But just barely. "-ng. Why do you keep trying to hit me?!"

"I'm fine. But don't call me miss. I'm not thirty."

"Fine! Ma'am-"

BAM.

"How is that any better?!"

Looking up from his new residence upon the floor, Ryan stared as she calmly placed the flower vase back on the side table. "You're freakin insane!" He snapped before bracing for another hit.

"Why thank you."

He paused, eyes wide. "What? You're not going to throw something at me?"

Eyebrow raised over the glass of water she was drinking from, Liz shrugged. "If you insist..." She raised the glass and he about fell over trying to back away.

"No! NO!"

"Hm." Slightly disappointed, Elizabeth went back to sipping her water and watching horrible daytime t.v. Eyebrow raised, she looked back at Ryan. "Didn't you come here for a reason?"

Getting to his feet, Ryan Gallagher brushed himself off and looked back at her, serious.

Five minutes later he was coming out of the room cursing up a storm and wiping water and glass from his hair. Laughing, Liz waited until she was sure he was gone before the laughter died from her face and worry crept into her eyes.

How had he known about Race?

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Finally managing to be let out of the hospital - with the direct orders to not do anything that would aggravate the burns all over her - Elizabeth found herself on the ride back to her house. They couldn't stay in the house, for obvious reasons, but they were sleeping in a camper outside.

Just to keep an eye on the rebuilding and stuff like that.

Her parents were also, thank you God, sound sleepers, so it was no problem to sneak out that night and race the few feet to the house, where she carefully made her way up the stairs, trying to not look around too much.

Stopping outside her door, she took a deep breath and winced at the scorch marks on the door. Pushing it open she was happy to see the fire hadn't made it up here, and the damage wasn't that bad. However...

Gasping, she raced across the floor and slid down next to Race's slightly translucent form, unable to take a hold of his arm to shake him. Growling in frustration she pounded the floor and called him until his eye twitched.

"Racetrack Higgins!"

"CHEESE!" He bolted straight up, eyes wide.

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There. Update. I'm good. Hehe.

So...Review?


	7. I didn't save you

Haunting

Chapter seven: I didn't save you

Summary: You grew up on them...whether to scare you or intrigue you. Ghost stories, chilling and mysterious. Some people don't believe in them..and those are the people that come to find out, first hand...That they're true. -Not a Mary-Sue, and is really interesting. PLZ read.-

A/N: yaaah, sorry guys. School death.

BTW: There is no romance in this. At least not between any female and any newsie. Just to set that straight. This isn't a Mary-Sue.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own newsies. Thank you.

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"If a man harbors any sort of fear, it percolates through all his thinking, damages his personality. Makes him landlord to a ghost."

- Lloyd C. Douglas

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"You really don't remember?"

Race slowly shook his head, sitting in the middle of the floor, his face nearly emotionless. Elizabeth knew that look, and it took all her strength for her to not call him on it. He had told her once, that he had been a poker player. He was quite good at the blank face.

Especially when he wanted to hide something.

"What are the police sayin?" He aimed at changing the subject, and let off a small sigh of relief when she took it.

"That it was all electrical. They haven't found the point of origin yet, but its all an accident." She shrugged a bit, her fingers playing with her sleeve. It was a habit Race recognized. Raising his head, he met her eyes.

"Liz? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" She repeated slowly, eyes darkening. "What's _wrong_? My house went up in flames, Race! I nearly died! We don't have anywhere to live, my parents don't have the money to rebuild, and you dare to ask me what's wrong?!"

Blinking wide eyes, the ghost watched her as she got to her feet, fuming. He opened his mouth to say something, when she swept an arm over her dresser, breaking things she had cherished since she was young, shattering them on the floor, against the wall.

"Liz!" He yelled, on his feet and behind her, solid arms jerking her backwards, "Liz, stop!" He winced as a jagged piece of porcelain flew by his head, mostly from reflex, as she started to scream.

Race held onto her, even as she screamed, even as she thrashed around, tried to throw him into the wall, tried to break his grip. She cursed him in every language she knew, cursed the house, and finally started to curse herself as the screaming escalated into full blown sobbing.

Turning his head away, he waited until she had stopped sobbing, and then let his grip go. Elizabeth slid to the floor, covering her face with her hands, shoulder's shaking. He heard his name and dared lean a little closer.

What he heard made his eyes fly open and he grabbed her arms, jerking them down.

"_Gallagher_?"

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"What did you find out, Ry?"

Ryan sighed, phone held up with one hand as the other ran through his hair. "Nothing. She's tight lipped and as stubborn as you are."

There was laughter on the other end. "Ryan, I do miss you. When are you coming home?"

Looking around at all the people running around the park, he shook his head. "Not until the job is done, Darcy. You know father."

Silence. "Aye. I know father. But I also know you. This life is not for you."

"It doesn't matter." He looked at his watch and then stood up from the bench. "Look, I have to go. Don't worry about me, and don't call here again. Good-bye, sister."

"Rya-"

Flipping the cell phone closed, his fingers tightened into a fist. He would find out about that ghost if it was the last thing he did. His father needed that of him. He wasn't going to fail. Not again.

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Race's hands shook her, back and forth. "Did you just say Ryan Gallagher?" He demanded, eyes widened slightly. "Did you?" He snapped when he didn't get a response the first time. "Elizabeth!"

"...You're hurting me..."

Cursing in fluent Italian, Race let her go, noticing he had left her arms red. He opened his mouth to apologize, but shut it again, because she had started to talk.

"Yes, I said Gallagher... He's a new student in my class." Elizabeth tried not to touch her aching arms. He hadn't meant to do it, she was sure. She just didn't know what the problem was. What did the name mean? "He came to see me when I was in the hospital...he knew who you were."

Race frowned. "He knew about me? Were you talkin or something?"

"No...He just asked. Why? Race, what's so wrong with his name being Gallagher?"

Race got up, pacing back and forth, his form slightly translucent, so that the small amount of light went through him, giving him an almost misty-like quality. "Ryan Gallagher senior, I would guess dis kid's father, is a famed Ghost Hunter."

Insert silence.

"You're _kidding_." Elizabeth blinked. "They actually have real Ghost Hunters?"

"Yes, they do. And this kind specialized in gettin' rid of dem." Race stopped his pacing, and turned to look at her. His gaze was heated. He didn't want to assume, but it was hard not to. How else would he know about him?

"Getting rid of them...But Race!" Her eyes flew open when she realized the danger her friend was in. "They can't get rid of you. You haven't done anything wrong. You saved me back there, didn't you?"

Race frowned, and then slowly shook his head. "About dat...Liz, I didn't save anyone."

"What do you mean? Who else pulled me away from the fire? They found me on the first floor. I wasn't on the first floor, Race." She ran her hand through her hair. "It had to have been you."

"It isn't somethin I'm proud of, but Liz, I didn't even know there _was_ a fire."

"But...But..." She got to her feet, shaking her head. "I don't understand." She leaned on the window sill, looking out at the quiet night. Nothing broke the stillness, nothing, not even an errant shadow.

"Neither do I." Race sighed, his form disappearing where he stood, his voice the only thing left, ringing in the air, until that too faded. "...Neither do I..."

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Race sat on the roof, long after Elizabeth returned to her bed. He just didn't understand it. There were so many things that just didn't add up. Ryan Gallagher knowing who he was, the fire, Elizabeth's rescuer, the entire thing was spinning out of his control.

Sighing, he rubbed at his face. If ghosts could get stressed, this was definitely his version of it. For the first time in a long time, he wished he had a cigar, and a pack of playing cards. Face brightening a little at the thought, he drifted down to the house.

They had to be here... Race combed through Mr. Miller's downstair's desk, finally pulling out a pack of cards. With a broad smile, he slipped the undamaged cards from their case, and held them for a long moment.

Why hadn't he thought of this before? Honestly. He started to shuffle, going through the patterns he knew by heart. His life had been cards at one point, and he had loved it. His hands remembered what his mind no longer did, and he started to shuffle one handed, a surprised chuckle coming from his throat.

The days would no longer seem endless, now, he had something to do. He returned to two handed shuffling, when something fell from behind him and shattered on the floor boards. His hands jerked, and the cards sprayed everywhere.

Even as he spun, and the cards drifted to land on the floor, there was no one there.

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oooooo. I wonder who that was! -grin-

Review?


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